Bogotá: Where Sketchbooks and Drizzle Collide
i just got back from bogotá and my notebook's stuck together with *rain and regret. the air's so thick with moisture you could wring it out like a dishrag-perfect watercolor conditions if you're into that sort of thing. my paints bled everywhere, now my whole trip looks like a purple bruise. speaking of which, i just checked and it's... that sticky, breathing kind of fog that hugs your face like a clingy relative, hope you like that kind of thing.
holed up in la candelaria dodging downpours, found this rooftop cafe overlooking cerro monserrate. the owner kept refilling my tinto because i looked 'spiritually thirsty'-which i was, after three days of empanadas. someone told me the real artists sketch from there at dawn, but i saw mostly hungover backpackers. heard la macarena's street art gets tagged over weekly, so hurry if you wanna see that guerrilla mural before it becomes another wall.
this guy selling quinoa arepas at mercado de las pulgas swore the gold museum's real treasures are in the basement vaults. 'they'll show you the shiny stuff upstairs,' he said, 'but the real history? locked tighter than my ex's diary.' then he winked and charged me extra for avocado.
if your fingers prune up, zip over to zipaquira salt cathedral-it's an hour bus ride into the mountains, smells like ancient rock and prayer. locals warned it gets claustrophobic when tour groups swarm, but i went mid-week and echoed alone through those salt corridors. humidity down there's lower than my spirits after missing the last chiva bus back.
overheard two transmilenio drivers arguing about whether villanueva tastes better with cheese or hogao. 'cheese for the soul, hogao for the hangover,' one grunted. then they both lit cigarettes inside the bus. colombians are committed to contradictions.
ate at this sancocho joint near chorro de quevedo where the broth tasted like my grandma's kitchen if she smoked 40 a day. found it on yelp turns out it's famous for almojabana-cheese bread so dense it could stop a bullet. if you get bored, medellín's just a prop plane ride away where the air's thinner and the paisa vibes are stronger. my flight's delayed. again. typical bogotá-always holding you hostage with clouds and bureaucracy*. i miss my eraser already.
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